Profiles in Black: Dynasty
by CelticPhantom
Summary: Sometimes we do for our family something we may never have considered otherwise. Approval can be the most powerful motivator. For Rude killing, kidnapping, and extorting was a family business.


Profiles in Black: Dynasty

A/N: I've done a lot of Reno-centric fics lately so I figured I would try to come to terms with that funny little muddle called Rude.

* * *

SOLDIER were the frontline warriors and the heroes.

We Turks were more than that.

The training was brutal beyond anything most people could imagine. They had to shrug off pain, ignore the voice in their head that screamed _enough. _Where a normal person would drop to their knees and weep we were still wading through the blood and barbed wire.

That's what I was meant for.

Or so father told me.

I don't blame him he just wanted to do right by his son. That's what all fathers want right?

"Yo, Rude. What the hell are ya staring at?" My red haired partner interjected from the side.

The colour of the hotel wall reminded me of my childhood bedroom and it had me reminiscing, something I found myself doing all too frequently. Not that I would ever tell Reno that. I trusted him with my life but that still didn't change the fact that my friend was a borderline autistic and certified lunatic. Instead I just grunted and slid on my sunglasses.

_Never let them see your eyes, son._

"You gonna answer me Rude?" Reno asked again.

I know somewhere in the back of my mind the words registered but I was too lost in contemplation. To his credit Reno took the hint and stood up, wordlessly shuffling out of the room. That was something nobody ever knew about him, Reno was incredibly perceptive. My red haired partner just didn't believe in letting a potential enemy know your strengths.

Father wanted to ensure that I was the best there was so there was no doubt I would be made a Turk. He started my training when I was twelve. I'd mastered several forms of unarmed combat by age fifteen, by sixteen I was an expert marksman.

For the first few years of my life father had been away. There's was always another job, another mission. He believed in everything he had to do. He wanted a better world and he knew somebody had to have the stomach to do unsavoury things to ensure it. I wish I was as certain of my existence as he always had been, but I wasn't.

Once he'd begun training me I spent nearly every day with him for seven years.

At first I was excited because I finally got to be with my father. Now, even to this day, I never knew the man. I got glimpses here and there but he always seemed to be on another mission even when he was in the same room.

I picked up the tumbler beside me and took a sip. It was only water, Reno believed in drinking on the job but I didn't.

_Always be in control son._

I set my water down and took up the dossier next to it. Our target was a man named Jubal who was a small time gunrunner that had been getting greedy. Not only was he taking money out of the president's sweaty fist but he was also supplying anti-ShinRa groups.

Normally a simple job but the file indicated that belaying his dreams of glory he was actually a smart man. I wouldn't be able to just slip in and out, security would be too tight.

On any mission I couldn't help but ask myself what would father have done in a situation such as this?

The second I'd gotten the clearance I went through all of fathers files. I think I got to know him better through this than through any of our time together. I'd learned that he had always worked alone and that he'd been a consummate professional.

I couldn't match the way he had done things but it wasn't necessary.

The mission would be difficult but I worked with Reno for a reason. Infiltrating the compound would be the most difficult part. Reno had insisted we just leave it to luck, he thought it was more fun that way. I didn't deal in luck.

_Always have a plan, son._

The guard changed every night at quarter to midnight, that's when we would go over the fence. Immediately Reno would charge off, leaving timed explosives and flash bombs. Five minutes to the communications shed and he would clip their system.

In the meantime I would creep ever towards the main house. Two clicks over the radio would be Reno's signal that it was clear to move, if I didn't hear the explosions, that is.

Three shots.

Two in the head, one in the heart.

The mission would be done, the company would be rid of one more nuisance and maybe father would be proud wherever he was.

I was a Turk like my father before me.

I wouldn't ever fail, if only for father.

There was a heavy rapping on the door, "Come on buddy, it's time." Reno called.

Silently I stood, checked my pistols clip, and tugged my gloves tight.

Thanks to father I was the best.

It was time to go to work.


End file.
